


"I have to do this"

by Kate88



Series: Striketober 2020 [9]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26911519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate88/pseuds/Kate88
Summary: I had a very different version of this written and ready to go, until about 11pm last night.  Then this wandered in and I couldn't decide between the two.  I think the topic of the other piece had been done real justice by others here, so this is the alternative.
Series: Striketober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948660
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28
Collections: Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020





	"I have to do this"

**Author's Note:**

> I had a very different version of this written and ready to go, until about 11pm last night. Then this wandered in and I couldn't decide between the two. I think the topic of the other piece had been done real justice by others here, so this is the alternative.

It has been a long week, but it is finally over. Robin shifts the very last box; containing biscuit tin, kettle and mugs, onto her hip. She is standing in the outer office, trying to memorise the precise shade of the shabby floorboards and take in the exact way that the light falls through the blinds at this time of the evening. She wishes she was alone. She wants to say a proper goodbye. Denmark Street has been her favourite place, her sanctuary and home for five years. She wishes that Pat, Barclay, Hutchins and Michelle would just _sod off_ for ten minutes.

“Time to go” Strike announces beside her, giving her shoulder the briefest of squeezes.

They have taken most of the furniture, though they are leaving the flatulent sofa behind. It is untenable to Robin that it could ever leave Denmark Street. It is so much a part of the space that she half expects it to be absorbed back into the walls as soon as no one is looking.

In single file they pile out, closing the door behind them. Pat has her key in her hand, but Robin puts a hand on her arm, stilling it.

“Think I have to do this” Strike says, taking out his own key and slipping it into the lock.

He didn’t used to be one who stood on ceremony.

A click. A thunk. The rasp of metal against metal. One last shake of the door handle to ensure that the lock has caught, and it’s done.

Robin stares at the peeling, faded gold lettering on the glass of the door, mortified by her burning eyes. 

_C. B. Strike. Private Investigator_ has left Denmark Street for the last time.

Their secretary and sub-contractors are already heading towards the outside world. Laughing, joking, griping about the removal company’s time-keeping, as if this is just another end to just another perfectly normal day.

Strike and Robin let them go. They look at each, at the top of the stairs where it all started, listening to the drumming coming from the shop. This would be the time for a speech, if either of them were speech-makers.

As it is, she gives him a wobbly smile and he rolls his eyes.

"What is it you Northerners say? 'Don't be so soft'?"

It has the desired effect. She laughs and turns to follow the others.

"Right then" he announces, closing the door onto the street and reaching for his cigarettes. "Tottenham?"

"Seems appropriate" Robin sniffs, and together, the staff of Strike and Ellacott Investigations walk down Denmark Street for the last time.


End file.
